


hit me like a hurricane, love

by electrumqueen



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Birthday Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrumqueen/pseuds/electrumqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You gonna tell me where we’re going?”<br/>“Shut up and have your Americano.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	hit me like a hurricane, love

**Author's Note:**

> well, i missed the boat on robert's actual birthday, but happy birthday anyway, buddy! i'm happy you're kissing aaron now <3
> 
> thanks to j for hanging out with me while i wrote this! SORRY I LET YOU DOWN on the bj front :*

 

  

Robert is a late sleeper. He didn’t used to think of himself like that, and in an argument will maintain that it’s Aaron who gets up too early and ought to consider having a lie-in once in a while. But that’s all semantics.

The relevant information here is that Robert’s woken up in the back of the Woolie four times in a row this week, and every time he’s woken up alone. It’s not bad, really. It’s not like the bed is _empty,_ not with Aaron’s smell in the blankets and Aaron’s clothes strewn around the foot of it, and the sound of Aaron rattling around in the kitchen filtering up through the door that’s open just a crack.

He yawns and stretches out, flexing his feet down against the sheets. It’s the twenty-second; it’s his birthday. The big three-zero.

_You’re fucking old, Robert._

This time last year he was married and lived in a big house and he was miserable; now he’s got no guarantees at all, he’s living out of his sister’s box room and he’s so happy he thinks it must shine out of him. He thinks, sometimes, that people must look at him in the street and know - must be able to look at him and see the marks of Aaron’s fingers, of Aaron’s mouth. That they must shine on him, bright as anything. Obvious.

He used to think that last year, too, but last year that scared him. Now it makes him proud.

He drags himself out of bed and fishes a top out of the pile on top of Aaron's dresser. He needs to go back to Vic’s and get some shirts, but he’s been avoiding it. He’s just got Aaron back, he just likes being able to be with him - all the time.

( _Take it slow,_ mutters Aaron in his memory, both of them laughing as Robert sucks him down. _Slow_ indeed.)

The top is Aaron’s. It stretches strangely over his arms but he doesn’t mind, because it smells like Aaron’s soap and aftershave. He pulls down at the hem and pulls his trousers on while absently checking his phone.

He can hear Aaron making noise in the kitchen. It’s just gone nine, which means he has actually really slept in. Usually - okay, yesterday and the day before, but this is new, that’s basically a routine - Aaron’s shaken him awake, gently, and smirked at him and told him there are things to be done.

(Mostly the things are Aaron. Robert is okay with that. Robert is very happy to be awoken for that.)

It’s so fucking strange to have a routine like this. To pull on your clothes and go downstairs to your boyfriend’s kitchen, and bump around him and his mum and his little sister as you search for coffee.

It’s fucking strange that it’s been three days and it feels normal. More normal than Home Farm ever did.

God, that’s weird. But it's him and Aaron, he supposes. When did that ever make sense?

 

He rubs his eyes and pads down the stairs. “Aaron?”

“Morning, Robert,” Aaron says. It’s just him in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his hands around a mug and a plate of toast in front of him. “I suppose it's still technically morning.”

“It's half nine, settle down,” Robert says. He feels himself bristling a bit; it’s his fucking birthday, he’s allowed to have a lie-in.

Aaron quirks his mouth up, very slightly. His eyes are soft, the way they always are when he looks at Robert, these days. Soft and hopeful.

Robert wants to hold that feeling in his hands and in his heart. He never wants to let it go.

Robert checks the room and leans down, presses a kiss to the corner of Aaron’s mouth.

Aaron lets him, which is still, three days in, entirely magical. Aaron lets him, and Aaron turns his face and kisses Robert back.

“Morning,” Robert says.

“Morning breath,” Aaron grumbles, but he’s smiling.

Robert kisses him again to make a point and then goes to put the kettle on. His fingers miss Aaron’s skin. It’s strange, because he survived for so long without it, but now - now it’s like he’s withered up, like he’s been underground for all this time and now like a new plant he’s just hit the surface, just hit sunlight. “You’re wearing a suit,” he observes. “Special occasion?”

It’s the blue suit, the jacket draped over the back of Aaron’s chair. Robert takes a minute to enjoy it, the rolled-up sleeves at Aaron’s forearms, the crispness of the collar at his throat. There’s a little, faint red mark, just barely poking out; the memory of it shoots through Robert, lightning-fast.

“Have some toast,” Aaron says, waving the plate at him. “I need a favour.”

Robert takes his toast. There’s butter on it already. “Aaron-” he starts, instead of, _anything,_ because it has only been three days and Aaron asked him to take it slow.

“I just - hear me out, yeah? Don’t get all - Robert on me.”

Robert takes a bite and sits down next to him, stretches out his foot to brush against Aaron’s ankle. “I dunno what you’re implying there.”

Aaron sighs and his mouth does that straight-line frown it does, and the space between his eyes furrows. “I’ve gotta go to Liv’s school,” he says. “And I - it would be nice if you would come with me. She’s uh, she’s in a bit of trouble.”

Robert chokes on his toast. “What kind of trouble?”

Fucking Liv. Robert has tried not to say anything, because he is in a new relationship and Liv did Aaron a massive favour and is also, honestly, not that bad of a kid, but. Fucking Christ.

It’s Robert’s _birthday,_ he thinks, sullenly. He hadn’t exactly expected Aaron to remember - Aaron can’t even remember that his sister has to go to school five days a week, though Robert thinks that may be selective memory from someone who has just gotten a new sibling - but it would be nice to at least not have to do this.

He didn't sign up for this, he repeats to himself.

Aaron puts up both hands. “I know, I know,” he says, and then he drops his voice and looks right at Robert’s mouth. He’s doing that vulnerable new dad kind of face and Robert hates how he's fucking easy for it, but he is easy for everything about Aaron, that’s what’s happened, he’d better suck it up. “I don’t want to do it by myself.”

“What did she _do_?” But now that Robert thinks about it, he doesn't like the idea of Aaron trying to talk to a head teacher alone. Aaron would probably fight them and that's the last thing Liv needs, which Robert doesn't really care about, honestly, but he does care about Aaron being stressed as little as possible.

Aaron’s had a stressful time lately, and this is just _more_ stress, and Robert knows how to manage this kind of thing, learned from the best - learned from Chrissie in full flight, with her chequebook and her hard, steady voice.

His heart is already hammering. He’s already thinking about what he’s going to say, trying to remember the solicitor Chrissie had used, trying to remember the way she’d held her shoulders and the edge she’d had to her words.

Fucking Liv.

She’s not his job to care about, but what’s fair doesn’t really matter.

What matters is Aaron.

“I dunno,” Aaron says, wincing. “Something with explosives? I think? They might have called the police, I guess we could get a solicitor- But I mean, you basically are one, you’re good at that kind of thing.” He pauses, something thoughtful in his eyes, something playing about the edges of his mouth. “Anyway, you’ll need to put on a suit. And maybe bring some whiskey.”

 

Something does not add up. Robert narrows his eyes. “You’re fucking with me.”

Aaron holds the straight face for a moment more and then he grins, all the way. “You were _bricking it,_ ” he says, getting to his feet and stretching out an arm to catch Robert by the waist. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. Says happy birthday and all that.”

“I bet she does,” Robert grumbles, but he lets himself be dragged to his feet and grudgingly presses a kiss to Aaron’s mouth in response to his begging eyes. “Did you actually remember my birthday?”

“Oi,” Aaron says, smacking him in the shoulder. “Of course I did, it’s a milestone, innit? You’re old now. Can take you round places, get a senior discount-”

“Aaron!”

Aaron laughs. “It’s a _joke_ , Rob, calm down.” He curls a hand around Robert's hip and rubs along the line of it, thumb steady and sure. “I should admit that I wouldn't actually have remembered if it weren't for Vic. She texted like ten times, definitely thought I’d forgotten. Which I had, but only the first like, two times. She’s a good mate, your sister. Really loves you, no idea why.”

“She’s soft,” Robert says. “Character flaw. Dunno where she gets it.”

“Not a clue,” Aaron says, bright-eyed, and then he goes soft around the eyes, around the mouth. He has this smile now, this like, warm, sunshine thing. He gets it all the time when he looks at Robert and when he looks at Liv, and there are a lot of things Robert can hold against Liv, but not that. Never that. “Happy birthday, Rob.”

“Thanks,” Robert says. He settles both his hands on Aaron’s hips and draws him in, kisses him long and easy and feels Aaron melt into him. God, he’s never going to be over that. Not as long as he lives.

It’s been four days and it’s the best thing in the world: Aaron’s mouth and Aaron’s smile and Aaron’s eyes crinkling up round the edges and Aaron’s warm broad body pressed against his in the beam of sunlight that falls through the kitchen window.

Aaron breaks the kiss, steps back. “C’mon,” he says. “I’ve got a plan. We’re going out.” He’s grinning, a little flush in the apples of his cheeks, his hand still on Robert’s hip, fingers still hot against Robert’s skin.

“What about-” Not that Robert doesn’t _want_ a day entirely free of a certain irritating teenager, but he spent a long time holding Aaron back. He doesn’t want to be something Aaron regrets, not ever again.

“She’ll be fine for a night,” Aaron says, like Robert ought to know as much.

Robert thinks that’s optimistic, honestly, but he’s not looking this gift horse in the mouth. “Okay,” he says. “D’you - have a plan or something?”

“Go put your suit on,” Aaron says. “Don’t wanna be seen in public with you looking shabby, do I?” And then he pauses, and settles a hand on Robert’s shoulder. He lowers his voice, like he needs to be careful with Robert. “Don’t worry. Not - people won’t be looking.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Robert says, and it feels good to be able to say it. There is a toast crumb in Aaron’s stubble so he reaches up and thumbs it away. “If you wouldn’t.”

Aaron breathes out, very soft. “It’d probably be all right.”

 _Probably,_ Robert thinks, feeling it very solidly in his stomach, in his chest. _Someday soon. But not yet._

The idea of that is nicer than it used to be.

 

-

 

Robert wolfs down his toast in record time, and then loses that record time kissing Aaron against the kitchen counter, lazily grinding against one another until Aaron shakes his head and says, “We’ve got to go,” and bullies Robert into the car, pulling up outside Vic’s so that Robert can go in and retrieve his suit.

“Come in if you like,” Robert says. He hasn’t been back to Vic’s longer than the time it took to get a toothbrush and some clean pants in five days, and she ought to be at work, but just in case she's not he wouldn't mind some backup.

“If I do that, we won’t get out of here,” Aaron says. But, relenting, he presses a kiss to the corner of Robert’s mouth. “I’ll shout you a coffee. Since you’re old now.”

He kisses Robert all the time now. Not when people are around - when people are around they stay a handspan away, at least, because it’s just - Aaron’s not ready, and if Robert’s honest, neither is he - but when it’s just the two of them it’s easy.

“I’m not _old_ ,” Robert says.

“Yeah, you are,” Aaron says, reaching up to run his fingers through Robert’s hair. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind it.”

“No sugar in my Americano,” Robert says, ducking his head out of Aaron’s messing hand. “Don’t take too long.”

 

Before he can pull out his key and open the door, Vic’s yanking it open.

“Rob!” she says. She’s beaming. “Happy birthday!”

Before he can do anything she’s thrown herself at him, like a little aggressive ball of warm blonde hair and broad, knowing smile. “Did you specifically wait here for me to come back?”

“Yeah,” she says, brightly. “Aaron’s been a good sport. Glad he gave up on the joke, though, it was a bit stupid.”

“All right,” Robert says, narrowing his eyes at her. “You have five minutes while I pack a bag. Start talking. If you cry I'll turn on the radio.”

She trails him up to his bedroom - well, the box room, but Robert’s thinking of it as his because it’s not like anybody else is going to show up in it. “I'm just really happy,” she says. “You just -  you look really happy, Rob.”

Robert shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe I am.”

She perches on the edge of the bed. “You look really good together. You make each other look good.”

“Um, I have to change.”

She rolls her eyes and pointedly turns her back to him. “Go ahead.”

He sighs and goes through the rack of clothes. “D’you think the maroon?”

“Yeah, it makes you look fit.”

“I _am_ fit.”

“Sure, all right.” She tucks her knees up to her chin. “D’you know, I baked you a cake. Because I’m nice.”

 

He dresses quickly. Aaron’s t-shirt feels warm in his hands, and it still smells like Aaron. He shoves it at the bottom of his bag.

“Give you a hand with your tie, if you like,” Vic says. Her back’s to him and her hair is spilling down over her shoulders and he loves her, suddenly, viscerally, completely.

That’s the thing about Liv, isn’t it? Robert has a sister, too.

“Yeah, okay.”

She turns around and smiles at him, cautious and gentle and sweet. “You clean up all right.”

“Cheers.” He misses Aaron, which is stupid, because it’s literally been five minutes. He wonders where Aaron is now; tipping coins into Bob’s palm, making a face at whoever he sees in the cafe, maybe stuck with small talk. God, Aaron’s bad at small talk.

God, Robert loves him.

“It’s chocolate cake,” Vic says, tugging at the ends of his tie, smoothing her fingertips over the fabric. “Aaron’ll say he hates it, but he doesn’t. It’s got a layer of caramel, so don’t let him complain.” She’s got quick fingers, easy. She ties it quickly and easily and presses a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Cake’s downstairs.”

He slings his bag over his shoulder and follows her, takes the box she presses into his palms.

She’s still looking at him like that - like she’s fucking _proud_ of him, and god, he's wanted this for so long, and didn't realise. He's wanted to be someone Aaron could be proud of, but it's not just Aaron who deserves a better Robert.

“Vic,” he says, quietly. “Listen. I know you’re excited, and I know it’s because you love me.”

“Robert-” She sits down on the sofa and folds her hands on her lap, keeping her gaze steady, and unrelenting. He has always loved this about her, that she can look at him, unflinching.

“Just hear me out, yeah?” He sits down next to her, so their shoulders brush. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her hair is soft against his neck when she tips her head sideways to rest it on his shoulder. “This is really good for both of you. That’s why I’m happy.”

“It’s new, Vic. Just-  dial it back, all right? It’s really, really new. It could go anywhere.”

“You love him so much-”

“I’ve loved people before. I don’t regret any of this - I’m glad I got to be there for him. I love every minute I get to be with him. But it’s been - like four days, Vic. Don’t go planning the wedding.”

She sighs. “I was thinking, powder-blue suits, matching. With little corsages.”

“Vic!”

“I’m joking, obviously. I get it. No jumping to conclusions.” She lifts her head and squints at him. “But I am proud of you. Am I allowed to be that, at least?”

“Guess you can make your own poor decisions if you want,” he says, kissing her hair.

She laughs. “Take your cake and go,” she says. “I’ve gotta get to work and you’ve got a boyfriend in the car. And I know him, he’s not gonna be pleased, waiting round for you.”

 _Boyfriend,_ Robert thinks. His heart hammers in his chest. It ought to be enough to make him run for the hills, but it isn’t. It just settles in his blood, warm and solid. Grounding. He ought to feel trapped and he does, a little, part of him yelling _get out go set everything on fire_ but he doesn't want to. He wants to be with Aaron, for as long as Aaron will have him.

“Have a good birthday,” Vic says firmly, fingers on his jawline. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Robert says. “If you say so.”

 

-

 

Robert balances the cake box in one arm and steps out onto the street.

Aaron rolls down the window, checks that nobody’s about and then whistles at him, very softly. “S’pose you clean up all right.”

“ _All right,_ ” Robert says indignantly, leaning in. “You can’t be serious.”

Aaron laughs, but there’s an edge to it, a hot kind of smirk in the corner of his mouth and the slope of his gaze. His eyes drag along Robert and he reaches up to flick at Robert’s tie. “Better than all right,” he concedes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” Robert says. “Hold this,” he adds, and shoves the box with the cake in it into Aaron’s lap and while Aaron is busy trying to keep it stable curls his hand around Aaron’s jaw and turns Aaron’s face back towards him and kisses him.

Aaron makes a soft, startled sound and melts into it. “Fuck,” he says. “Robert-”

“Okay, okay,” Robert says. “Nobody’s out.”

“You know I just - don’t want to make it a thing.”

“I know,” Robert says, reassuring. “I know, it’s fine.”

“It’s just-” Aaron bites his lip. “This is _ours,_ ” he says, and there’s a little desperate edge to it, something that Robert wants to soothe, wants to gentle; something that makes Robert want to wrap his arms around Aaron and tell him he can have everything he’s ever wanted.

“You can rely on me,” Robert says. He strokes his thumb along Aaron’s jaw and pulls back. “Do you believe me?”

There’s a pause. Just a moment, just enough so that it stings. But -

“Yeah,” Aaron says, quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

“I’ll put the cake in the boot,” Robert says.

 

Aaron kisses him when he gets into the passenger seat; leans over and presses his mouth to Robert’s, like an apology. It’s funny; it used to be Robert, afraid of this. Now it’s Aaron who wants to keep things under control, contained.

Robert will do whatever Aaron asks of him. But he is on fire when Aaron is around him and he knows Aaron feels the same.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“Shut up and have your Americano.”

Robert stretches out his legs and does as he’s told.

 

-

 

Aaron pulls the car in.

It’s familiar - a big building, lush and green. It takes a second, and then Robert settles back in his seat. “Barden Park,” he says.

Aaron smiles at him, careful, shy and sweet. A question in the play of his mouth, in the slope of his eyelashes. “We can go somewhere else if you want. I just thought-”

“Do things right this time,” Robert says, heart hammering in his throat, whole body humming. He reaches across the divider for Aaron’s hand. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, looking down at Robert’s hand before he settles his palm over the top of it. “Vic wrote me a list of things but I didn’t think you wanted to go to the zoo. And I really didn’t think you’d wanna go with Liv.”

“Why would I need to go to the zoo when I could just go to the Woolie? Plenty of safari behaviour there, between Charity and Andy and whoever else is kicking off.” Liv, lately, but he doesn’t say that.

Aaron snorts. “Too right.” He pauses, and drops his eyes. “I know it’s not Barcelona, but-”

“It’s fine. It’s - this is good. This is great.” He’s maybe a bit too quick to say it but it’s not untrue. This is Aaron’s idea, this is Aaron wanting to do something for Robert, and maybe that’s not lying on a beach in Barcelona, but it’s not nothing either. “I’m really happy, Aaron. I’m _really_ happy.”

“Don't get too excited. We’re having drinks with your sister and Adam tomorrow,” Aaron says. “Couldn't get you out of that.”

“Didn’t try very hard, did you?”

“Not particularly, no.” Aaron pauses. “She’s pretty keen. Thinks it’s gonna be a double date, I reckon.”

Robert raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He keeps his tone measured and even.

Aaron shrugs, voice as nonchalant as Robert's. “As long as there’s cake, I don’t mind.”

“Vic does do a good cake.” Robert feels his mouth turn up at the edges.

Aaron smiles back.

 

-

 

They check in under Aaron’s name. It should feel big, Robert thinks, but it doesn’t. It just feels normal: his hand on the small of Aaron’s back as Aaron leans forward to talk to the receptionist, him leaning up over Aaron to crowd him into the corner of the elevator and kiss him, _happy birthday to me._

 

It’s a nice room. It’s a _really_ nice room.  

It’s not the same one they had last time, which Robert is grateful for, he thinks. There’s a big window and a bigger bed. The last time they were here, Robert broke Aaron’s heart.

But now Aaron trusts him.

Now Aaron trusts him enough to bring him back again. It feels like it means something. It feels like it means something good. Something about who Robert wants to be.

The scrapyard’s been doing well, so Robert doesn’t ask about the financials. He just puts his bag down in the corner and watches Aaron open the cake box and then, when Aaron wanders back over to him, leans back against the door and waits for Aaron to put his hands either side of Robert’s hips and lean all the way in.

“All right?” Robert asks.

“You gonna keep wearing that?” Aaron asks, flicking his eyes pointedly to the crotch of Robert’s trousers.

“What,” Robert says. “Are you implying something?”

Aaron shrugs. “I was thinking I could suck you off, but if you just wanna watch the footie, that’s fine too. It’s your birthday.”

Robert has never gotten out of his trousers so fast in his entire life.

All thirty years of it.

  
Thirty fucking years. It feels - you don’t think about it, when you’re a kid. It feels like forever away. But he was with Chrissie and everyone thought he was too young, and now it’s just - now a lot of things have happened to him, and at the end of all them, he is here.

In this room, with this man, with electricity sparking up his spine and want coursing all the way through his veins; he’s wanted other things, he will want other things. He’s got a whole life stretching out ahead of him. But it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like this is everything.

Robert, naked, with his back against the door, and Aaron watching him with a sweet, hot curl to his mouth, and Robert’s heart beating so, so fast.

 

Aaron drops to his knees with a solid thump. “You know,” he says, an arrogant quirk to the corner of his mouth, “it's really nice of you to be so quiet, at mine. You don't have to do that here.”

Robert blinks down at him, feeling very much the dumb animal Paddy called him a lifetime ago. “Is that a challenge?”

“If you like,” Aaron says, leaning in to drag his jaw along the inside of Robert's thigh. His stubble scrapes across sensitive skin.

Robert makes a soft, needy sound. His head falls back and hits the door solidly.

“Careful,” Aaron says, amused. His breath is hot. “Don’t wanna spend your birthday in A&E, let me tell you. Plenty of time for that next year, when you need to have a replacement hip.”

“A replacement-”

“Not the kind of noise I meant,” says Aaron, laughing at him, and puts his mouth where Robert wants it.

 

-

 

They end up having to ring room service for forks. As tempting as the idea of eating cake with your fingers is, Robert is a fucking adult.

Robert makes coffee while Aaron wraps himself in a hotel bathrobe and when he turns round there's champagne, too.

“Pulled out all the stops, eh?”

“You only turn thirty once,” Aaron says. He shrugs. “I am sorry we didn’t go to Barcelona. I know you wanted-”

Robert shakes his head. “This is great. You and me- that’s all I want.”

“It’s not,” Aaron says, ducking his head to open the bottle.

“Yeah, it is,” Robert says. There’ll be other stuff in the future, he knows. But not - not right now. Right now it’s almost too much, if he stops to think about it. “Why’d you book Barden Park, Aaron?”

Aaron hands him a champagne flute. Their fingers brush. “Just wanna do things right,” he says. “This time.”

“Now that I’m not going to hurt you?” Sometimes Robert thinks about it; how easy it is to butterfly Aaron’s chest, how easy it is to rip Aaron open and hurt him. He doesn’t know why he used to do it so much; he thinks maybe it got addictive. Maybe he needed it, to make sure he wasn’t the only one desperate and lost in the depth of how much he was feeling.

Now, though. Now he can be gentle. Now he tries his best to be kind.

Now he holds Aaron’s small smiles close to his chest. They feel more like victory than his bitterness ever did.

“Dunno,” Aaron says. “You probably will. But I don’t think you will today, which is nice.” He pours his own champagne and then peers over to look into the box. “Oh, it’s chocolate.” He’s making his frown-face again.

“She said you’d like it.” Robert shrugs. “If you don’t, I guess we can take it home. Give it to Marlon or something.”

“She’d have a fit,” Aaron says, grinning. He tastes like champagne when Robert kisses him.

 

They sit there, naked, and eat the cake out of the box with forks. Robert drapes his legs across Aaron’s lap and Aaron rests his spare hand on Robert’s ankle, drawing little circles absently with his thumb.

“It’s quite a good cake,” Aaron says. “I s’pose she was right about the caramel.”

“She’s bright, my sister,” Robert says.

“They’re all right, aren’t they?” Aaron says. “Sisters.”

“Yeah,” Robert says. “They’re okay.” He raises an eyebrow at Aaron, licks the tines of his fork.

“God, you’re demanding,” Aaron says, smirking, and puts the cake aside, and presses his mouth to Robert’s.

 

-

 

Aaron’s fingers are firm, careful. He works his way into Robert in slick little pulses, kissing Robert as he does it, so Robert’s too busy with the slide of Aaron’s tongue to worry about the roughness of that first breaching sensation.

“You wanna know why I booked it?”

“Aaron,” Robert says, turning his face into the pillows, spreading his legs as far as they’ll go. “C’mon-”

“I wanted to know,” Aaron says, softly, stilling his fingers. “I wanted to know we could do it.”

“D’you think we can?”

“I dunno.” Aaron chews his lower lip, his spare hand trailing over the wanting arch of Robert’s dick. “I want to try, though.”

Robert’s going to answer, going to say, _that’s all I want from you, Aaron, that’s more than I could ever hope -_  but it’s too late, Aaron’s pulling his fingers out and rolling the condom down onto his cock and sliding in, and the burn of him, the enormity-

Robert says, “Aaron, I-” and looks up at him, at the unending blue of his eyes. “Aaron,” he says, and it feels like enough, it feels like everything.

It feels like he’s been waiting all this time, and now he’s whole.

“Happy birthday, Robert,” Aaron says.

 

-

 

“It’s about to be dark out,” Robert says, reaching out to trace his fingers along the curve of Aaron’s belly. “D’you wanna think about heading back?”

“We’ve got breakfast,” Aaron says, startled, looking faintly wounded. “Mum said she’d look after Liv, we’ve got the room overnight-”

Robert kisses his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says. And he means it, too, which is - surprising, to say the least. “And you can check your phone if you want.”

“She’s probably out with Gabby,” Aaron says, but he grabs his phone off the nightstand anyway, too fast to not have been thinking about it. 

Robert hums and stretches out, rests his cheek on Aaron’s chest. He doesn’t say anything about how awful it is for teenagers to decide they have friends.

Aaron’s free hand sinks into his hair, gently petting. It feels really nice. Soothing. “She’s fine.”

“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Robert says dryly. “It’s anyone in the blast radius.”

“Be nice,” Aaron says, mostly joking, but a little bit not.

“I’m trying.”

“I know.” Aaron drops a kiss to the top of his head. “I know it’s a bit full on.”

“It’s really not,” Robert says. “I mean it is a bit, but when have we ever been not? At least - this feels good.” He lifts himself up onto his elbows, so he can look at Aaron’s face: at the darkness of his beard and the kissed-redness of his mouth. “At least now we’ve got something to show for it.”

Aaron closes his eyes and settles his hand on the small of Robert's back, thumb rubbing smooth circles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Robert says.

Aaron’s eyes snap open.

“I love you,” Robert says, quietly. He wants to say it all the time. He knows it's too soon, but it has been so long and it is the truest thing the he knows, and Aaron is here, soft around the mouth for him.

Aaron is here; Aaron who booked a hotel that Robert once humiliated him at, to remind them both that things are better now. Aaron, the bravest and best person Robert has ever known. Aaron, who taught Robert that he wanted to be brave, too.

“I-” Aaron sighs, swallows. “I’m not- but I-”

“I know,” Robert says, rolling his shoulders to feel himself littered with the marks of Aaron's fingers and mouth. “I said I’d wait and I will. I just wanted you to hear it."

"Thank you," Aaron says. His voice is as soft as it has ever been; Robert lets it wrap around him, sink into his skin and blood and bones. "I'm glad. That it's you."

Robert smiles. "Me too," he says. "Let's go home."


End file.
